Something Wicked
by LifesLover
Summary: He sees in colors and this guy is just color so he's like a moth drawn to a flame and he can't help but thinking that he'd love to stay, maybe but then he comes back down and it's all just grey.  AkuRoku
1. Prologue

Prologue

It feels like purple; purple and blue and just a touch of red. He's flying high off of nothing but adrenaline but as he gurgles in the back of his throat, he finds he just can't care. There's a butt rubbing against his and another rubbing against his crotch but, again, he just doesn't care. He doesn't care about the fact that he doesn't know either of the people to whom those butts belong because it feels so good, like purple and blue.

He tilts his head back and sighs opening his eyes to the pulsing lights and he's off flying again and there's the red passing over his head and then just a little bit of green and maybe a hint of brown, too.

'_Freckles_,' he thinks dully, before closing his eyes and lolling his head to the side. He doesn't want to think, doesn't want to come down, doesn't want to know that colors will go back to being a murky grey. So he slides away from the butts in front and back and stumbles to the bar, knowing that if he just got another drink he'd be able to go back to seeing in color, back to thinking of purple and blue.

'_Grey doesn't exist, grey doesn't exist, it doesn't_,' he stutters, '_does... doesn't, nope, doesn't_.' But peach does and that's the color of the frozen drink slid down the bar and into his waiting hand and he drinks quickly, ignoring the way the ice wraps around his head. He knows he'll feel it in the morning but that's tomorrow and this is now and he'll just ignore that pain and focus on the ice slithering down his throat and settling into his stomach and for a moment he feels he's going to be sick but he swallows it down and heads back onto the dance floor, peach and puke on his tongue and he doesn't caredoesn't... care doesntcare.

Roxas is not color blind. He knows nothing about those who are and he's never met one who is. But Roxas thinks in colors and he feels in colors and his day to day life is a dull grey, rusting at the edges and orange is such a hateful color anyway. Roxas hates grey. It's only when there's nothing in him but the fear of flying that he can finally see the colors for what they are, finally see the purples and the blues, the hints of reds and the murky browns just waiting at the corner. He hates it when the brown creeps out of its corner and films everything over and then fades to grey. He hates it, hatesithatesit.

His eyes roll back in his head and he tilts his head again and he just blanks, just opens his eyes and stares at the nothing and everything and he wants to fly just so damn bad but he can't anymore, he can't for the fear, for the brown pushing its way in and he knows that black will come soon and then everything will be grey and he doesn't want it. Doesn't want to remember just how pathetic he is, just how pathetic life is, just how pathetic everyone _else_ is, too. He huffs and pushes away the butt against his crotch that's doing nothing to turn him on (just because he's hard doesn't mean he's turned on, doesn't mean he wants it, doesn't mean you're ever going to get your slutty, cum-covered hands on it, he'd die first) and leaves the dance floor, stumbling even more but the high's gone, just gone and nothing will get it back because it's just not that easy to be happy.

And then he stumbles into red and green and just a touch of brown and white and black and green and his head lolls back because the colors are tall and he's not and then the colors are speaking, smirking just a bit and Roxas thinks in the back of his mind that he's never seen any colors so colorful, never felt so much so he presses closely to the colors and then he's kissing a peachy mouth and peach is responding and he's flying again, flying harder and faster and maybe he's tripping just a little bit but as places flash by his inebriated mind he doesn't care because even though the brown is pressing in and dulling to grey those colors are still formed in the shape of someone else and he can stare at those colors and they don't fade and then he's pressed against a wall and pressed into the feathers of a bed and his hands are fisting in sheets and he's moaning and the colors don't fade, they don't... fade_dontfade_.

* * *

><p><strong>© LifesLover<strong>


	2. Chapter One

**Disclaimer: **I haven't written one of these in quite a while and yet it's still just as old. I think I'll just post an all encompassing note on my page disclaiming my rights to KH. Seems only fitting, since I don't own it.

**A/N: **When I imagined updating again, this little story hadn't been the one I'd thought to update. I figured It's Complicated would be better, or even The Devil Can Wait. But those ones were harder to write, since I'd written so much on them and lost so much. This one, however, I managed to write in one sitting. It's not beta-ed, by me or anyone else, because I figured if I read it over, I'd probably hate about half of it and delete it and try again. Right now, I kind of needed my writing to just be cathartic, instead of perfect. I spend so much of my time belittling what I write that I do very little writing. And I've missed it. I really have. I wish I could say that I was back for good and that I was going to be updating with regularity, but for those of you who remember me, you know it just won't happen. But as I've promised before, I'll never leave a story unfinished. I will always come back to finish it, even if it takes me years. This used to be called A Little Bit of This and a Little Bit of That. But I found that title to be just far too cumbersome and it's now called Something Wicked. I like it a lot better, me know what you think. I'd love nothing better.

**Warning: **This story is heavier than anything else I've ever written. I don't mince words and I don't hold back on the language. It's extremely mature and not fit for younger audiences. You will probably come to hate both characters, but I also hope that you'll come to love them just as much. And if you find curse language and detailed sex beyond you, turn back now. There will be no drugs, because I can't stomach the thought of writing about them, but I don't hold much else back. I love what I have planned so far, even if it's far and away from the comedy I'm used to writing. You have been warned.

**Publish Date: **5/25/2012

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

* * *

><p>Roxas doesn't like to think in the mornings. He can feel himself waking, can feel his stiff muscles stirring, and he doesn't like to think that if he opens his eyes, he'll stare up at a ceiling he doesn't know, unable to hear the ticking of his favorite clock. So he keeps them shut, whimpers just a little, and shifts his legs just the tinniest little bit, grimacing at the feel of dried cum splattered on the back of his thighs. No, Roxas doesn't like to think in the mornings.<p>

But he knew that opening his eyes was only inevitable, so with mental and physical reluctance, he opened his gummy eyes and stared at a ceiling, covered in dark green paint and stickers of stars and planets. He blinked, squinting up at the odd tableau, which featured not just astronomy but also a few random pictures of rock stars. Roxas didn't like to think in the mornings much, but he couldn't help the little slip of a thought escape that he'd rather not wake up to a portrait of Gene Simmons staring down at him.

Craning his neck around, Roxas' eyes widened at the sight of green staring back at him.

Eyes crinkled as green darkened and then a peach mouth lifted at the corners and then came bearing at him forcefully, taking his mouth quickly in a kiss that reeked of morning breath but still left him stunned and vulnerable to desire. The men he slept with were never awake when he left their beds. The kiss softened, lips drawing back slightly to murmur a good morning against his pair. Hands touched his body, drew him against hard planes, and the kiss deepened, tongues sliding out to duel.

The man obviously had no idea of the normal morning-after protocol, but Roxas was starting to like it. That traitorous thought brought Roxas back to reality, and with it, the idea that this just _was not done_. Roxas was meant to slip quietly from the stranger's bed without a backward glance to tempt him. This die-hard rule had never before been broken, but the man now climbing above him, hands slipping down to slide against hips and reaching for his cock, was effectively destroying said rule into a thousand little pieces.

Finding it hard to do so, Roxas tore his lips and tongue away from the man. "What in the hell are you doing?" he gasped, hands scrabbling around muscled arms as the man found his rock hard target and let out a pleased moan.

"It's called having sex, obviously," the man murmured against his neck as he set his teeth to the skin and worried a hickey to the surface, gripping Roxas' cock and fisting up and down.

"Jesus!" Roxas keened, nails digging into the warm arms. "You gotta… you gotta stop that, right now."

Instantly, the hands paused and the teeth let go of his neck, and the head of the man came swimming into his view. "Seriously?" the man intoned. "You're saying no to sex?" The man rocked back on his heels, ending up beside Roxas on the bed. "Why?"

Roxas blinked, ironically sad to see those lovely hands not wrapped around his penis. He was, after all, the one who had said no. "Uh, well, normally, in these kinds of situations, it's just not okay to have morning sex. I mean, I don't even know your name."

The man smiled ruefully. "Yeah, that's kind of something I guess needs to be fixed, huh? Well," he said, holding out a hand to Roxas, "I'm Axel. I kind of told you last night, but seeing as how you were really plastered, I'm not surprised you don't remember it past screaming it last night."

Roxas stared at the hand, currently held out in greeting, which had covered his cock not two minutes earlier, and then stared at the man – Axel - whose hand it belonged to. The easy smile playing on those gorgeous peach lips faltered at the rudeness but returned in full force as the hand dropped back to rest on Axel's equally gorgeous thighs.

"You know, this is the part where you tell me your name and say it's nice to meet you. Then, in a wild fit of passion, we'll have pretty fucking awesome morning sex, since by your definition, it's okay to do that once we're no longer nameless," Axel prompted. His eyes made a show of traveling over Roxas' bared body and his still hard penis, which got only harder under the gleaming stare.

A part of Roxas would have liked nothing better than to tell Axel his name and then jump his bones and be fucked into the mattress, but Roxas had long ago learned that what he wanted just wasn't going to happen. This was not normal for Roxas and it was not okay and Roxas needed to jump ship and get the hell out of that bed and away from this disarmingly handsome guy who seemed just as eager to jump Roxas' bones and fuck him into the mattress.

So Roxas did what Roxas did best, and he opened his mouth and said, "I'm… I'm leaving," and rolled out of bed, grabbing his pair of jeans and working them over his ass, grabbed a random shirt on the floor and ran as fast as he could out of that bedroom, feeling every inch the ass he was. But then, he justified to himself, the guy couldn't have expected anything less from a one night stand, right?

It didn't help Roxas' chest feel any less cold or empty.

Only when Roxas arrived at his own apartment did he realize the shirt he was wearing covered him to knees, a definite difference from the tight t-shirt he remembered he'd won before. As he drew it off his body, he clenched the worn fabric in his hands and brought it to his nose, sniffing, his cock hardening instantly at the unidentifiable smell. Images assaulted his brain as he groaned, remembering his back up against a brick wall, his hands fisting in the shocks of bright red hair, tongues dueling enthusiastically, as a thigh was worked between his, rubbing up against his aching hard on.

He'd enjoyed last night thoroughly, had enjoyed the colors and the way his mind hadn't thought a single moment. Then again, Roxas always enjoyed his nights spent in someone else's bed. He enjoyed them so much; he hadn't spent a night in his own in over a year. Roxas moved to throw away the shirt, which was a shocking blue, but he stood over his trash can and literally could not put let go. Finally, he moved away from his kitchen and ambled into his bedroom, folding the t-shirt neatly and then placed it in the top drawer of his dresser, closing it harshly. He was not going to think about what he'd just done.

As Roxas stumbled into his bathroom, eager to be rid of the stains of his dissolute lifestyle, he resolutely turned his mind toward the coming night, when he'd be able to keep his brain dulled with alcohol and his thoughts quieted for just a little while as he sought sweet oblivion in a mind-blowing orgasm. He'd be able to think of blues and purples and maybe just a touch of r-, no, no reds. Never reds, never again.

He would do well to stay away from red.

Axel didn't much like coffee, but he kept it in his house for the occasional family visitor who did. Today, however, he swallowed the vile shit gladly, wishing it could take away the taste of the unknown blond man he'd shared his bed with. It should have, it burned his tongue that much, but of course it didn't. He stood in his kitchen, one hand wrapped around the mug of goo and the other clenched in folds of fabric. The blond's t-shirt had been left behind in his haste to scurry away from Axel.

Axel snorted. It wasn't like he had a disease or anything. Sure, Axel wasn't familiar to one night stands or anything, but even he knew that most guys jumped at the chance for uninhibited sex. Hell, the guy had jumped for it last night. What made the morning so different? Axel was by no means an arrogant asshole, but he knew he was pretty good-looking, wasn't disease-ridden, and had been told on many an occasion that he was a pretty good lay. He knew that he should just chalk up the experience to a skittish guy, probably someone who had never really done it before, but as he stared at the shirt in his hands, knowing that the blond guy had stolen his own, one of his favorite, too, he knew that he just couldn't do that.

Blond Guy had gorgeous blue eyes and Axel was just such a sucker for blue eyes, especially when those eyes had spoken of pain and panic and just a little bit of wariness. Those eyes were true windows to the soul and the guy had practically been screaming. Axel sighed, setting the mug down on his counter, ignoring the protesting clink it made, and brought the shirt to his nose, sniffing, hardening at all he remembered from the night before. He'd been nowhere near as drunk as Blond Guy. Responsibility lay squarely at his feet, since he'd been the sober party and quite capable of knowing what he was doing.

Axel didn't know what to do, though. He hadn't gotten the guy's name: even as he'd said his own, Blond Guy had been working away at his lips and had never bothered to tell his own. He didn't know his name, where he lived or worked or what he even did to help narrow it down. The only thing he knew was that he went ape-shit when Axel bit the apex where his hip and his thigh met and that when he pressed on his scrotum lightly, he melted like wax in the sun. Axel didn't like the odds stacked against him, because finding him would be next to impossible if the guy didn't want to be found. The only lead Axel had was the bar they'd met at the night before.

Maybe the guy was a regular there. He could talk to the bartenders, find out what they knew. If he was damned lucky, he might be able to get a name out of them and if he was really lucky, he might see the guy again that night. Still, it was a stretch and not one that Axel had much hope for. He'd never been the lucky sort.

All of that would have to wait, though. For now, Axel desperately needed a shower and something better in his stomach than viscous gunk. He laid the man's shirt on his counter and was walking away to take a shower when his phone rang. He bit back a sigh and had decided to let the answering machine get it when the dulcet tones of his baby sister rang out.

"I know you're ignoring this, Axel, and that just won't do. Pick it up, dipshit."

Axel raised his eyes to his ceiling and prayed for lightning to strike him down. When none did, he reached over and grabbed his phone, answering the call before his sister could say more.

"Hey, Kairi," he said, grimacing.

"You're an asshole, Axel. Why haven't you called Mama?"

"Don't beat around the bush any, huh, Kairi?"

"Well," his sister answered, "when it comes to you and your lazy, good-for-nothing ass, beating around the bush wouldn't do a damn bit of good. You know Mama just had surgery. Call her before I jump on a plane and come over there and beat you about the head with your dick."

"You really need to wash your mouth out with soap. This language is highly unbecoming," Axel said, ignoring her words and chalking up the new wriggling in his stomach as the organ protesting coffee being put in it. It had standards, too, of course, and it had nothing to do with guilt, absolutely nothing.

"I wouldn't need such unbecoming language if you weren't such a hard-ass and would just call her. Come on, Axel, it's been four years and you haven't talked to her since. She birthed you and raised you and now she's sick and you're just ignoring her. That makes you a first class asshole and I'm not going to mince my words to save your delicate constitution."

Axel sighed, closing his eyes as the pain ripped through him. He knew he was being an asshole, Kairi hardly needed to tell him. But Axel just wasn't ready to let go and forgive, even if she was sick. He knew he needed to because his mother could very well die and that had him pretty fucking scared, but how did he go about forgiving her for calling him a fag and kicking him out of the home he'd grown up in?

"You know it's not that easy, Kai," he whispered.

She sighed, the gust of wind crackling over the phone. "I know it's not, Axel, but this may be the only chance you and she will have to let this go and move on. She's changed, Axel…. The thought of dying has changed her. She just wants to talk to you. Please, just… think about it? She's our mom."

"Yeah, and mothers are always supposed to be there, right? Where was she when I needed her?"

Though he knew it was rude, Axel couldn't stand listening to Kairi's defense of their mother for another moment, and he hung up on her, abruptly ending another sigh. Kairi had only been thirteen at the time. She didn't understand the pain he'd gone through. She didn't understand that, four years ago, their mother had renounced all ties with him, effectively ending their relationship. Yes, Celia Evans had been his mother, but she gave that all up a long time ago and Axel wasn't ready to extend an olive branch.

He'd much rather think about another dilemma; one of about five feet and three inches with unruly blond hair and deep soulful blue eyes and a compact little body that had snuggled up next to his during the night. So he dragged his aching body into a cold shower and ignored the way his phone erupted immediately and shut his ears to the tune of his seventeen year old sister swearing enough to make a sailor blush.

There were too many problems he just couldn't fix. Why did everyone expect so fucking much?

* * *

><p>© LifesLover<p> 


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N: Gee, I'm on a roll lately. Here's hoping I can keep it up better than I have been. I like this updating thing. Imagine!**

**Suggested Listening: Colors by April Smith & The Great Picture Show**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

Axel found, much to his displeasure, that he didn't much care for bartenders. They were about as vile as coffee, in his opinion. Was it their fault they'd never heard of a single particular Blond Guy with pretty fucking awesome blue eyes (Axel's words) who strolled like he owned the fucking place and wasn't three sheets to the wind, but was apparently all bravado? Yes, yes it was.

How could they not recognize the guy? How was it that their blood hadn't sung in desperate lust the exact moment they saw Blond Guy? How were they unable to remember? In a tiny portion of Axel's brain, he knew he was being completely unfair, but damn it, this was important!

Nevertheless, the bartenders didn't know anything and Axel slunk out of the bar in abject despair. He could come back that night and search out Blond Guy, but that was exponentially harder considering the vast amount of people that graced the bar's doorstep at any given point in time. This didn't even take into account that Blond Guy might not actually show up. There were, after all, quite a few bars he could grace with his presence and maybe he had a policy about rotation.

Axel, of course, didn't know. Still, Axel wasn't ready to give up. He was, after all, a sucker for blue eyes. His phone rang and he looked down only to sigh and send it to voicemail. His boss was no more welcome than his sister and since it was his day off, he didn't much care if his boss needed to talk to him.

But then it rang again and then again and again and again. This was bullshit, he whined to himself. Just ignore it, ignore it, _IGNORE_. _**IT**_.

Axel was a sucker.

"Yeah, Mr. Feldman?" he asked, jumping into his car.

"Axel, my man: you're just the guy I was looking for! Look, I need your help."

Axel rolled his eyes. Mr. Feldman was a junk heap for a boss, acting like he was just such a great guy and such a great boss while secretly siphoning off the petty money given to their office by the corporate head honcho. Not that Axel gave a damn all that much about the money anyway, but he had a thing about liars and Mr. Feldman was on his shit list for a reason.

Still, a paycheck was a paycheck and Axel could always use a little bit more money.

"What do you need?"

"Okay, part of my job is to make the rounds to some of the other offices in the area, but I just don't have the time to make them all today. I need you to stop by the downtown office for me and check around and make sure things are up to snuff."

Axel bit back a sigh. Yeah, sure the guy didn't have time. He was too busy spending his ill-gotten bonus on his on-the-side slut. Still, whatever, he could handle it. It wasn't like he had anything else to do with his time. And it would kill time until he could go back to the bar and look for Blondie.

"Yeah, sure, I'll go take a look."

It's not like he hadn't done it before.

"Thanks, Axel, I appreciate it!"

Axel might have said more but his boss hung up before he could. "Son of a bitch: can't stand that asshole."

He jabbed his key into the ignition, ignoring the roar and peeling out of the parking lot. He hated his job.

* * *

><p>Roxas hated his job.<p>

His eyes were starting to film over but he was staring at a white screen, in a white computer, on a grey desk, sitting on a black chair, on a grey carpet. The color had been leeched out of his office and he hated it. Even the green of the plant he'd brought in seemed faded. Roxas hated it.

It was like his brain was melting out of his ears. He couldn't concentrate on anything. Not that he'd really want to, anyway. The only good thing about his job was that the boss was never there. He could spend most of his time doing whatever he wanted. Why bother spending it working?

He sighed in disgust and threw his body back in his chair, swiveling away from his screen. There was an itch in his skin, fire burning in his veins. He wanted to do _something_, go somewhere. This job was a disease, causing his will to live to decay.

He scratched at his arm, eyes trained on the plant beside his desk. Grey, everything was grey. He was sick and tired of this job. He wanted the day to be over with. He was just waiting for the moment when he could punch out and drive his ass over to the nearest bar and get shit-faced drunk.

Life was so much easier when lived under a blanket of warm tequila and vodka shots. The world glowed with color that Roxas couldn't normally see. Blues, purples, and reds; Roxas lived for those moments.

Thinking about it brought back the unpleasant memory from that morning, of a man who radiated red and green and peachy skin. Roxas hadn't met a man yet who'd been interested in more than just kicking Roxas out of the bed come morning. This one had been and it had scared Roxas shitless.

Still did, if Roxas were completely honest with himself. Roxas didn't like it when his routine was disrupted and morning sex was just a big disruption. Was he being ridiculous? Yes, but Roxas didn't realize that and probably wouldn't have cared in any case.

Roxas' selfish tendencies had gotten him into this grey-less world in the first place. This was his punishment, he felt. He deserved nothing better, like morning sex and a guy with fiery red hair and gorgeous white teeth opened in a huge smile. That wasn't his destiny.

So he shoved away those thoughts and the traitorous tremble his heart gave and turned back to his computer. No sooner had he decided to finally focus on work, since there was nothing better to do anyway, when whispers started to circulate across the open work space. Heads popped up above cubicle walls and chairs squeaked on their casters as they were rolled out from behind desks and peeking around walls to speak with the person next to them.

Roxas frowned, wondering at the disturbance. He got to his feet and left his cubicle to look at what was going on, since he was too short to look above the walls like everyone else.

Just as quickly as he'd left, he scuttled back in, eyes widening and chest pounding at seeing the guy he'd left just that morning walking down the corridor, talking to two of his co-workers and looking over four different folders that looked very official. If he was lucky, the guy… Axel, was it? If he was lucky, Axel wouldn't have noticed Roxas' rather embarrassing duck-and-cover routine. Or, better yet, because Roxas was pretty sure Axel had seen, maybe this guy would be okay with pretending they'd never met and had mind blowing sex just the night before. Yeah, maybe he'd be like that.

"Well, if it isn't Blonde Guy!"

Roxas just wasn't that lucky.

He wanted to keep his back to Axel, but even Roxas cared enough about his job to know better than to openly and publicly snub someone who was obviously higher up in the company. So, with obvious reluctance, he turned around and pasted a slight smile on his face.

"Hello, how can I help you?" he asked, all the while pleading with his eyes and brain that Axel would just play along and keep quiet and that everything wouldn't blow up in a big fiery ball because there was a strict no dating policy in effect at the office and while he and Axel weren't dating, Roxas was fairly certain that the managers wouldn't look too keenly at mindless sex, either.

He might hate his job, but he didn't want to lose it, either. Had to keep up his habit somehow, right?

Axel grinned, all those pretty white teeth on full display. "Actually, yes, I do need to speak with you. I'll need to speak with others, too, but why don't I start with you, okay?" He tapped the folders in his hands, all the while looking like he was ready to set up camp right beside Roxas' cubicle.

It didn't look good; not at all.

"Sure," he replied, forcing his smile wider.

"Great! Why don't we just step into this office over here and get started?"

Axel turned and made his way into an empty office along one of the walls. Roxas followed slowly. What did this guy want anyway? He was going to be difficult and Roxas couldn't stand the thought at all.

So focused on his internal musings, Roxas barely noticed as Axel shut the door and closed the blinds on the windows that faced into the open office space. He definitely noticed, however, when Axel grabbed him around the waist, swung him into the desk and attacked his lips with gusto.

Roxas groaned, hands fisting in Axel's shirt, his mind completely obliterated. _God_, this guy was such… a… _good_… kisser. Mmm, yes, please, more. Axel's palm slid around his waist and rested along his lower back before bunching Roxas' shirt at the hem and gliding it up just enough for Axel to get his hand underneath to smooth, bare skin.

Roxas jerked at the searing touch, his hips nudging at Axel's, sending his mind spiraling further into a lust-driven haze. Axel's hands were all over his back, sliding around his front and flicking a nipple, nails grazing lightly at it before passing back over a little harder. Tongues came out to play and Roxas was just about ready to shove down Axel's pants when his altitude changed and he found himself sitting on the desk, mouth still fused with Axel's.

He jerked back, feeling a disconcerting sense of déjà vu. "Whoa, okay, what the hell!?" he said, hands pushing Axel away, who moaned at the loss of contact.

He jumped down and backed away, fingers coming up to wipe at his mouth. "Christ, what are you doing?" he yelped. "You can't just attack me like that!"

Axel shrugged. "Sorry, but I couldn't resist."

Roxas couldn't help but stare. "Well try, try really hard. I don't even know you! Do you not have any concept of what a one-night stand is? It means there are no repeats! Especially not when I'm at work!"

Roxas paused. "By the way, why are you at my work!?" He thought for a minute then his eyes widened. "Are you… are you stalking me? How did you find me here, I didn't give you my name!"

"Yeah, that's right. What is your name, anyway?" Axel acted, looking casual, stuffing his hands in his pockets, which did nothing to hide the bulge still prominently displayed in his pants. It didn't seem to be affecting him, though.

He could only stare incredulously at the tall man before. Was the guy for real? His lips settled into a firm frown.

Axel just smiled. "You know, I do kind of need your name anyway. For those reports I have to submit to my boss."

"It's Roxas. Roxas Miller," Roxas grudgingly supplied.

"Well, hello, it's nice to meet you, Roxas Miller. I'm Axel. Axel Evans," the guy said, beaming and withdrawing a hand from his pocket to thrust it at Roxas.

This time, when Roxas just stared at it, Axel just kept it up, waiting for Roxas to take it. Eventually, when he did, the already wide smile Axel sported just grew larger. He tightened the hand he had on Roxas and used it to reel him in close.

"Now we're not strangers," Axel murmured, eyebrows lifting up and down slightly. "Wanna make out?"

"You're just not getting the hint, are you?"

"Oh, no, I'm getting it, I just don't care."

Roxas could only stare. "You're nuts: certifiable."

"Possibly, but, hey, what can I say? I liked what we did last night."

"You have no pride; that must be it. I can't fathom any other reason for you to hang around a guy who is obviously not interested," Roxas moaned, frustrated with trying to pull his hand out of Axel's.

"Oh, see, now, you are interested. You were interested last night, and you were interested this morning, and you were interested ten minutes ago when your tongue was stuck down my throat and sucking out all of the air. So don't give me that bullshit," Axel retorted, pausing thoughtfully. "What I can't understand is why you're running so hot and cold."

"Maybe," he answered, "because I'm not interested in anything more than the one night stand we already had. There's a reason why it's called 'one night'. I'm not interested in relationships or having sex more than one night."

Axel just smiled. "And if I can get you to think differently?"

"It's not gonna happen, period, okay? You can't get me to change. I don't want to change. Go look for a relationship with someone else, alright?" He finally managed to pull his hand away. "You're only gonna get hurt around me, so save yourself the heartache."

Roxas opened the door and rushed out, too busy to get away to close the door.

Axel was left standing there, dumbfounded and yet also insanely happy.

Yes, he knew this was unusual. He knew what constituted a one night stand. There was just something about Roxas, though. Something that called out to Axel with everything in him; he couldn't help but answer the call.

Roxas didn't know it yet, but Axel was hardly done here. Axel wasn't one to usually think so philosophically, but he just knew…

This had to be fate. What were the chances, after all?

Axel was going to take this leap of faith and hoped that he landed softly, instead of face planting epically.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This one is lighter than my other chapters, but not to worry. I can't stomach nothing but drama, so I have to add some comedy somewhere. But, this is still a mostly serious story and these guys are damaged. This is only the beginning.**


End file.
